


A Bardling's Secret

by Phae17



Series: Home is where the magic is [1]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen, Geralt and Jaskier have a conversation, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22261204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phae17/pseuds/Phae17
Summary: Jaskier tells Geralt about his semi useless magical skills.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Home is where the magic is [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602424
Comments: 27
Kudos: 532





	A Bardling's Secret

Jaskier never learned how to really fight. He had been a semi decent Archer back in Camelot, and he could sort of wield a dagger, though never a sword. Like Merlin, he was much too clumsy much to Arthur's endless dismay. 

But by the gods was he glad he managed to at least pick up some evasive techniques, he could usually, for the most part, see a punch coming. Usually. 

Jaskier fiddled with the strings of his lute absentmindedly, eyes following Geralt's hands as he skinned the hares he'd caught, the motions pulled him into deeper thought.

If only his magic worked in this world. 

He was weak here. Bereft of a safety net he'd known his whole life. He remembered the intense feeling, the pain of being stripped of his magic as he entered this unknown world all those years ago. His magic did not belong here, but since it was apart of him, some of it lingered. Probably what was needed to sustain his life force. He could barely conjure up a fire without it knocking the breath out of him. 

Well, he couldn't be too bitter. He'd known the consequences beforehand. 

Still, it would be nice to cast a bandit or irate partner off into a tree as he ran away. Not that he's bothered trying but if a measly fire has him gasping then sending energy to knock someone out will probably make him pass out himself. 

Counterproductive.

"--skier." 

He's tried learning the magic used here but his own magic negated any attempts at melding with the chaos energy that existed here. 

"Jaskier."

Jaskiers head snapped up. "Huh? Wha-?" Refocusing his eyes on Geralts face, hands still holding the blade, eyebrow turned up in question. 

"I was asking what has you so quiet. You're never this silent."

Jaskier shifted his lute so it lay flat on his crossed legs. Hand caressing the top of it as he looked down. " Oh I don't know, feeling a bit meloncholic tonight I suppose. A rare occurrence I know. But it happens once in a rare moon, I am after all a man with many depths." 

"Hm." Geralt returns to skewering the hares for a minute or two before sighing and lowering the hare once again. 

A resigned look on his face as he asks, "And what exactly are you feeling melancholic about?"

Jaskier stares at him in surprise. Mouth slightly hanging open. "I-I… did you really just ask me about my feelings?" Disbelief colouring his tone. 

Geralt grunts as he gets back to work on their dinner. "Don't make me regret it." 

Jaskier continues to stare at him. Once the initial shock wears off, he thinks about whether he should finally tell Geralt the truth about himself. Not that he was actively hiding it really… he just never brought it up and Geralt had never asked about his past. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jaskier picks up his lute and fiddles with some notes, quiet and calm. "What would you say if I told you that I wasn't from your world?-" Jaskier looked away as Geralt looked up at him. "That I came from a world not too different from yours, but the way our magic works is a little bit different. And that there, I was a warlock, born with magic… would you believe me?" 

Geralt has paused his movements and Jaskier had the brief thought that at this rate, they weren't going to be eating at all. Jaskier stared at the hare in Geralts hand as Geralt stared at him, he could feel the intensity of the stare but couldn't bring himself to look at him in the eyes. His hands kept nervously fiddling with his lute, plucking a few chords at random slowly every now and again and he really didn't know why he was so nervous. Even if Geralt did believe him, he didn't think he'd be angry or judgemental. After all it's not like magic was forbidden around here, and it's not like Geralt wasn't capable of a few spells himself. 

But hiding who he was had become second nature during Uthers rule. And he hadn't stuck around after Arthur had died. Jaskier felt the old bidden guilt rise up in his chest whenever he thought of how he'd left Merlin on his own after everything had happened. 

He just couldn't do it anymore. 

"Say I did believe you, why have you never told me?" Geralts gruff voice cuts through his thoughts. 

Jaskier swallows and finally gains a little confidence from the relief of Geralts neutral tone. 

He shrugged. "I wasn't really trying to hide it to be honest, I just, I've just been used to never really talking about it. It's not like I can really use much of my magic here anyway, it's not compatible with chaos. I'm almost basically human, other than I don't age and while I can potentially die… it's not easy to do. I would have to use the last of my reserves for that to happen as it is magic that sustains my life, what with being born with it and all that, oh! And losing a lot of blood could also put me in a coma like state… of which I could potentially never wake up from, ever again." 

Jaskier winces at that particular thought. 

Geralt continues to stare at him in silence. 

"So if what you say is true, why did you come here if it makes you so vulnerable?" 

Jaskier huffed at the mild disbelief in Geralts tone, he really couldn't blame the man. It kind of sounds insane to willingly put yourself at so much risk for, well… essentially nothing really. 

"That's… a very long story. One that I don't think I'm up for at the moment. But what I will tell you is that, at the time, I was very much tired, hurt, grieving and perhaps just a little bit broken. I needed to get away, far away as I could ever get. And thus… I ended up here." 

Geralt was silent for a moment, before saying quietly, "So you ran away."

Jaskier surprised them both by laughing. 

He gave a half nod towards Geralt, "Yes, and no. My part, my role in my world had essentially been fulfilled. It was a bitter end, with only a hint of sweetness," he paused as he thought about Guineveres kind face turned ashen as she sat on her throne, alone. "And unlike my dear friend and fellow warlock, I wasn't strong enough to stick around and just pretend that my heart hadn't been torn into a million pieces and continually trampled on and lit on fire for good measure." 

Jaskier shook his head, gaze falling onto their campfire letting it's quiet crackling entrance him and soothe him. "I really was so very tired dear Witcher. So very tired." He said quietly and slowly. 

And just like that, like a spell suddenly broken. Jaskier sighed and whipped his head up once again, eyeing Geralts scrutinizing gaze he said, "And that is how I ended up here. A little wretched, poor, semi-magicless, and no real skill to speak of. I picked up the one thing that had been a dutiful constant in my life, besides my magic that is," he looked down and picked up his lute and strum some random chords, "my trusty musical talents."

They were both silent for a while. Geralt had turned to continually skinning the hares. Finally after a few moments of silence where Jaskiers anxiety slowly escalated,

"Do you believe in destiny Jaskier?"

Jaskier couldn't help the wide smile and huff of laughter. "Unfortunately, yes. Pesky things aren't they?"

"Hm. Well perhaps it was destiny that brought you here."

Raising an eyebrow and making sure his entire demeanor expressed his skeptism, "You don't even believe in destiny!" 

Geralt shrugged. "But if you do, isn't that enough?" 

Jaskier blinked, his mouth a little open in how taken aback he suddenly felt with Geralts lack of reaction to everything. Well… perhaps he really shouldn't have been surprised. But still. 

Then it dawned on him. 

Geralt was attempting to comfort him in his own weird way. 

"I think I'm tired. No, I know I'm tired." Jaskier says suddenly. Lifting himself up and walking towards his bag. "If I have nightmares tonight because of my very tragic past, I'm blaming you." 

Behind him he hears Geralt shift around and grunt, and if a grunt could ever sound sarcastic, Jaskier knew Geralt could make it happen.

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason my brain couldn't put this idea down. I'm not even really a writer, I'm an artist. I draw things, obviously my brain had other ideas. 
> 
> Brain: you should write the fic  
> Me: or I could draw fanart  
> Brain: no... Write  
> Me: we're not writers  
> Brain: write  
> Me: 
> 
> On another note: this will likely be a mini series, sort of like snapshots of their lives and how Jaskier allows himself to use his magic once again (err, what little he can comfortably use anyway) I have a vague overall story in my head but I don't want to make any promises or get ahead of myself. I will make sure not to leave cliffhangers though, I hate those myself.


End file.
